HEAD COACH MIKE NOLAN: Alright men, I know we normally take Tuesday off, but we really need this win coming up this week. We’re 2-2, and I really believe we can win this weekend and set up a run for the rest of the season. 

J.T. O’SULLIVAN: Coach, I think this team is poised to make a run. The loss last week has helped us realize that. 

FRANK GORE: [Holds up playbook] This is the first time I’ve ever felt like I’ve understood the offense! [Drops playbook]

JUSTIN SMITH: I think we can do it, Coach. [sips coffee] We’re really starting to come together as a team. I think everyone here has the right attitude. I think it’s time to kick some ass in the league!

[rest of the team cheers in approval]

COACH: That’s just the attitude I was looking for, men. This is gonna be a great week, I can feel it! Now, as we watch this film, on our opponent, keep in mind that–

[Coach hears knocking on door]

COACH: Hmm, don’t know who that could be. Now, men. These guys have lost some personnel on defense due to inj–

[Louder knocking on door this time]

COACH: Hey, whoever that is, we’re in a meeting! Fuck off!

[Knocking on turns into pounding, muffled screaming outside]

COACH: Boy, I’m gonna kick the shit out of whoever this is… [opens door]

CHARLES HALEY: LITTLE PIG LITTLE PIG WHATS YOU GOTDAMN PROBLEM MUTHAFUCKER?!?!?

FRANK: Holy shit, it’s Charles Haley!

J.T.: Wow, Charles Haley! Doesn’t he have like, 10 Super Bowl rings?

JUSTIN: Charles, are you gonna come out of retirement and play with us?

CHARLES HALEY: FUCK NO BITCH, IMMA COME OUTTA RETIREMENT AND PLAY WIT MYSELF! [strips naked]

COACH: [calling over PA system] Can we get security in here, please? Charles Haley has broken into the team room. He is naked. I repeat, Charles is naked.

CHARLES HALEY: LOOK AT MY SHIT! I’M IN BETTER SHAPE THAN HALF YOU PUSSIES! LOOK AT MY DICK! STOP LOOKIN AT MY DICK, FAGGOTS! 

COACH: Charles, you need to get dressed and get out of–Charles, stop shaking your genitals in my face!

CHARLES: YOU KNOW YOU WANNA SUCK THIS, COACH! YOU FUCKING FAGGOT! HOW THE FUCK YOU GONNA GET SOME WHITE MUTHAFUCKA PLAYING IN MY SPOT? NEVER SEND A BOY TO DO A MANDINGO’S JOB, YOU PUNK BITCH!

JUSTIN: I’m right here, Mr. HaIey. If you have something to say to me Charles, you can say it to my face.

CHARLES: WELL GOLLLLLY, YOU SHIT-ASS WHITEBREAD BOJANGLIN’ COCKSUCKER, LOOK WHO WANTS HIS COFFEE BLACK AFTER ALL [drops dick in Justin's coffee] DAMN BILLY RAY YOU BETTER HEAT THAT SHIT UP! YO MAMMA KNOW YOU OUT HERE IN FAGGOTLAND DRINKIN THIS COLD COFFEE? WHERE YO MAMA FROM ANYWAY?

[Justin doesn't respond]

CHARLES: SPEAK WHEN YOU SPOKEN TO, CRACKER JACK! YOU GOT WHITE BREAD IN YO’ EARS? I SAY WHERE YOU MAMA FROM, BOY?

JUSTIN: …Missouri. 

CHARLES: MMMMMMMMM!!!!! AW YEAH! ME N’ MY DICK GOIN TA MISSOURI. WE TAKIN A CAB FROM DA AIRPORT TO YO MAMA’S HOUSE. I’MMA RING DAT DOORBELL WIT MY LEFT NUT AND KNOCK ON DAT DOOR WIT MY RIGHT. SHE GONNA COME TO DOOR BEIN’ ALL, “Who is it, please?” AND I’MMA SAY,  ”BABY, YOU JUST WON FIRST PRIZE IN THA NIGGA DICK CLEARIN’HOUSE!”

Justin: Fuck you. 

CHARLES: THEN IMMA WRITE A BUNCHA ZEROS ON MY DICK AND TAKE HER PICTURE WHILE SHE HOLD IT. SHE GONNA BE ALL “I can’t belieeeeeeve I won! I never win aaaanything!” AND THEN, AND THEN I’M GONNA HIT THAT ASSSSSSSS! I’M GONNA HIT THAT ASSSSSSSS! [pulls dick out of Justin's coffee and starts flinging it, coffee goes everywhere]

COACH: Can we get some fucking security in here, please?!?!

GUARD: Hey, maybe we should go in there.

OTHER GUARD: No way. That guy’s unstable. Plus, I don’t want to touch his dick.

GUARD: No kidding, that thing’s a monster.